A Sudden Turn Of Events
by CorvusLacrima
Summary: Connor always wanted to kill Charles Lee, and that's a fact. But meeting Rillianne, the daughter of that man changes his life forever. Will he kill her? Or will he let his growing feelings for her stop him from doing so? Rated T for violence and language. Read and review please!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi guys! This is another story from my other account, SakakiHaruna12 (yes, I have lots of accounts in fanfiction) I decided to rewrite this since, the original one was messed up. I welcome those who are new to this story and I hope you will enjoy reading this just the way I enjoyed writing this! Read and review pls.!**

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE<strong>

November is known as the blood month, the eve wherein animals are slaughtered for the upcoming winter. How apt, it is, that another life must be taken in a night of merry-making in the Whitby Manor.

Carriages unload their wealthy passengers on the drop off in front of the grand manor. Footmen assisted their masters as they go down from their carriages as if they were fragile porcelain dolls that might shatter once they weren't handled with such care. The guests wore their most expensive coats, waistcoats and breeches. Their wigs were neatly placed on their heads along with their well-brimmed tricorne hats. Women's gowns are tailored into perfection; the finest French linens with intricate designs on them along with laces and ruffles trimmed on their necklines and sleeves. They also wore the most extravagant jewelleries made from pure gold and diamonds. Women displayed rings, reliquaries, lockets, and brooches. Diamonds, set together with precious stones of different colors, sparkled amidst golden flowers of various shades striped with enamel and in fanciful designs and rare arabesques.

Servants watching from a distance could only dream that they were he once inside the clothes of the nobles marching through the grand doors of the manor. The soothing song of the violins, cellos and other instruments danced in the mansion. Why would there be such an enormous festivity in this night in Philadelphia? It was no other than to celebrate the centenary of Commodore Frederick Whitby, a powerful man in the city of Philadelphia. He was a man basking in the glory the people are giving him, probably the only Englishman the Americans in these parts adored. Although he was respected by various Americans, some detest him. He was an instrument of peace and order; of justice and treasures human life, or so they say. A rumour has it that he was responsible for the massacre of the American rebels a few months ago. Their bodies were found brutally slaughtered like they were animals. And of course, the rumours were soon brushed off eventually.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" the old butler screamed at the maid who almost dropped the silver tray she was holding. Her blue eyes looked anxiously at the old butler whose face was red in frustration.

"Well, I was about to bring this tray to the master. Have I done something incredulous?" she said sheepishly looking down at her feet.

"Then what are you waiting for?! Do not make the master waiting!" he snapped and the young maid seemed to shrink down under his stare. The scullery maids paused for a while to watch the young maid get scold at for being sloppy and sluggish. The butler seemed to notice the maids and cocked his head towards them.

"What are you looking at? Get back to work!"

As if on cue, the maids hastily went to work, fearing that they might be the one to receive a barrage of snide remarks from the old man.

"What seems to be the problem?" another maid, Rillianne, entered the room; she looked a bit more mature. Her green eyes darted to the young maid first before the old butler. She gently placed her empty silver tray on the counter, her gaze not leaving the two.

"Well, one of the newly hired here is doing a very bad job in the kitchen! The master have called for his bottle of wine minutes earlier and she didn't even get to bring it there at the instant!" the butler explained hotly whilst the young maid winced at the loud screams of the old man.

"Come on, now. There are other guests that need to be served outside. It's best if we will not make such a big problem from a small thing like this" the Rillianne said, eyeing the younger maid who shifted uncomfortably under her stare. The butler gave a heavy sigh of defeat before picking up his own tray.

"You must take it from here then. I'll deal with her later" his eyes narrowed as he left the room.

"Umm… I haven't seen you before…" the younger maid muttered, while finding a sudden interest in the bottle of wine placed on her tray. _Use the tools and opportunities that are placed in front of you,_ Rillianne thought. That was one of the lessons the Grand Master Kenway taught her, and this was the perfect opportunity for her to apply it. Rillianne isn't here to serve food and wine to the guests. She was here for an assignment the Grandmaster himself has ordered her. This was her job, she wasn't a maid, and she was far different from that.

"Is that for Master Whitby?" the maid asked suddenly. Startled, the smaller maid turns her head. This gave her a perfect opportunity to scrutinize Rillianne. She was wearing the standard maid outfit, yet, she looked beautiful. Her curly dark brown hair was tied up in a bun, but brown locks were hanging on her ears. She was pale and her green eyes compliments with the darkness shade of her hair and paleness of her face. She was beautiful. It's as if she looked more like a noblewoman dressed in a maid's clothing.

"Yes. He asked for his dinner to be brought in the room. He is in no condition to entertain guests at this moment" As expected, he must've been sulking over with guilt. Rillianne would be more than happy to help him end his misery.

Rillianne hurried forward

"I will take the tray to him", she offered, "He is in a foul mood tonight"

The younger maid looked at her suspiciously and frowned at Rillianne.

"How do you know of this?"

"Because his man warned me of such when he came to fetch me for the evening" the maid gave her a cold smile. A look of contempt appeared on the younger maid's face, but she just simply shoved the tray into the maid's hands. Rillianne was torn between pride that she finds her pretence believable and annoyance that she thinks of her as a harlot. It was exactly what Master Kenway told her: People hear and see what they expect to hear and see. With one last swish of her skirt, she left the room, leaving the other maid with the tray.

"It's best not to keep him from waiting" the maid smiled faintly before heading to the room of her target.

**xXxXxXxXx**

Rillianne was on her way to the room of Whitby. It was not new to her when some of the male guests' gazes went warm on her. Despite her efforts in removing her attention from the men whose eyes are set on her, at the back of her mind, she can't help but feel the want of killing them off the instant they lay their eyes on her. Instead of trying to kill them, she just simply went with the idea of glaring daggers at them as she passes through the crowd.

While she was lost in her thoughts, a young man blocked her way to the staircase. Rillianne knew all too well who this man was. He was no other than the nephew of the Commodore, the cocky and useless brat who burns away the money of his family for women and a bottle of ale.

"And what is this beautiful maid doing here? Isn't she supposed to be on my lap, feeding me with the food set on a silver platter?" he said, walking around RIllianne, his eyes were full of lust. Rillianne took a deep breath, trying hard to be patient and restraining herself to cause any harm to the man.

"I must bring the master's dinner at once. I have no time for any of this." She said calmly, adding a slight fear in her voice so that she would sound afraid. The man gave a childish frown.

"Such a shame, we could've had more fun together. Well then, after your task do not forget to go back to me, love" he said as he released his hold of her and gave a light slap on her rump before leaving. Rillianne felt rage boil through her veins. She was at the brink of taking her knife and murder the man. But then, as much as she wanted to kill the man, she shoved the thought away and focused at her mission at hand. She continued walking through the east wing of the manor in a moderate pace. Soon enough she halted in front of a thick oak door.

Frederick Whitby's door.

With no sign of hesitation, Rillianne knocked the hard wood, loud enough so that the old man can hear her.

"Who is it?" a deep voice responded from the inside.

"I have brought you your wine, master. May I have your permission to enter your room?" she called out

"Proceed"

Thus, Rillianne pushed the door open. The Commodore was sitting by the fire, lost in his thoughts. The flames illuminated his features. His face was sickly pale and his eyes looked tired, a permanent scowl was traced in his features and the expression on his face looks as if he is bothered or stressed.

As expected, he must've isolated himself from the others because of his current condition. The man was barely even close to the proud man the people know he looks like. It's as if his soul was slowly being ebbed away by the guilt his conscience can no longer keep.

"Shall I pour the wine for you, sir?" Rillianne offered as she wrapped her hand around the flagon, waiting for the older man's response.

"If you must" and thus Rillianne poured the wine in the glass. Beautiful shade of red wine cascaded smoothly into the glass. Rillianne silently took a small bottle from the pocket of her white apron. It was a bottle of tincture filled with a strong toxin that can kill a man in short period of time; a few drops of it will be more than enough to kill one man. Silently, she uncorked the bottle and decanted a few drops of the solution into the glass of wine, before handing it over to the man. Rillianne closed the container of poison before pushing it back into her apron and walked towards the commodore.

"Here is your glass, sir" she brought the glass to the commodore and the man snatched it from her hand.

"Is there anything else you need, master?"

"Where is the other girl? The one who is supposed to bring this to me" he said curtly, not even taking a small glance at Rillianne. Rillianne's deep green eyes were focused on the shade of red inside the glass before responding.

"She was tasked to serve in the banquet, thus I was asked to bring this to you instead" she replied, choosing the right words. The man's frown went deeper before taking a sip of his wine. Rillianne waited patiently for the effects of the poison.

It wasn't long until the commodore clutched his chest, gasping for air and throwing Rillianne a hateful glare. He tried to stand up and reach out for the woman, but Rillianne pinned him onto the chair he was sitting on. Her hands wrapped around his neck. The man fought, trying to escape from the woman's strong hold, but was having a hard time to do so because of the poison that is slowing weakening him.

"Commodore Fredrick Antoine Whitby, you are charged by treason to the Order and is proven guilty. The Order has sentenced you to death, and I am here to accomplish the death sentence that was brought to you" Rillianne said calmly, her face showed no sympathy to dying man in front of her.

"Who-are-y-you?" he croaked,

"Rillianne Lee" the man gave a breathless snicker and Rillianne's hold tightened.

"So, you are the daughter of Charles. Tell him, that I do not regret anything that I have done. The Order is just as twisted as the British, they never were different" he said breathlessly.

"I am not here to listen to your last words, Whitby. I was simply ordered to kill you, not to retrieve any information from you" she said and watched as Whitby breathed his last. His eyes remained open and his face turned pale. Rillianne released her hold from the man and closed his eyes. She took his left hand and pulled a silver ring from his finger, a ring that is similar to what she was wearing. Rillianne removed the ribbon that was tying her hair up. Long, curly dark brown hair cascaded onto her back and Rillianne gave a small sigh.

"And another life was taken…"

She opened the window and placed herself on the frame of the window. She looked back at the body of the commodore; he looks like he just fell asleep on his chair. Rillianne removed her gaze from the body and leaped into the stack of hay lying on the ground below her. Rillianne remembered what her mentor once told her: _Become one with the wind _before plummeting down to the stack of hay. As she hid in the haystack, blades of hay brush softly against her skin as she scoped the area around her. Once she assured herself that the area is clear, Rillianne jumped out of haystack.

She sprinted through the field of green grass, distancing herself from the mansion. She vaulted over the walls and fences that got on her way. As soon as she approached the nearby road, a coach was already waiting there. Rillianne walked her way to the coach.

"Is it done?" the man leaning on the coach asked, throwing his cigar to the ground.

"Yes, I got his ring, Thomas. Why are you here? Where is my coachman?" she said passively as she flung her hair onto her back and showed the man Whitby's ring

The man gave a faint smile. Thomas Hickey took the ring from Rillianne and simply nodded.

"Your coachman is another story. The boss told me to fetch ya here" he said offering his hand to her. Rillianne simply walked her way to the coach, not minding Thomas's outstretched arm.

"What does Master Kenway want of me now?" she said impatiently as she sat down in the coach. Thomas took a letter from his coat and brought it to Rillianne.

"I guess this letter might tell ya something" he said and Rillianne took it from his hand.

"Thank you"

"No problem. That's probably the second time ya thanked me since the day we met" he smirked and Rillianne suppressed a smile. Thomas rode the coach and the coach moved once Rillianne heard the neighs of the horses. She watched as they pass through buildings and fields. Rillianne opened the letter and read it:

_To my daughter,_

_We are in need of your assistance here in Boston. Have you received word of William Johnson's death? It seems like there is an assassin lurking in the shadows once more. The Grand Master wants your presence in Boston within three days. There is much to discuss here. I hope to see you soon._

_Your father,_

_Charles Lee_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: In The Silence of the Night**

_Two Days Later;_

Silence rang through the assassin's ear. Cold wind rushed to his face as he crouched on the edge of the rooftop. From above, Boston looks like a blanket of black sheets in this time of the night. The lit lanterns look like shimmering jewels in the darkness. Only a few number of men walks in the streets at this hour. There was a complete silence. These are the moments Connor Kenway loved the most. He takes pleasure basking in the silence and the cold breeze brushing against him takes his mind off from his complicated life. For once, he can forget about his problems, his work, the Templars. The aura will only bring him to remember the wonderful things that he can recall in his life. And that isn't really that plentiful.

Now, Connor cannot enjoy the luxury of all this things tonight. Unfortunately for the young assassin, this is the perfect opportunity for him to assassinate one Richard Bennington, a Templar. Of all the moments Achilles can find, why does he have to put in this time of peace? Connor has nothing against the idea of murdering the man who is almost the same age as him, in fact, he would be more than glad to kill him at any cost. It was just that he cannot take this moment to gather and reflect on his thoughts. But since this is much more important, Connor has no other choice but to do it.  
>He gripped the tomahawk hanging on his belt as he opened his eyes. From the distance, he can see six lit up lanterns moving through the dark road. Connor stood up on his feet and leaped from the roof down to the haystack below him. His arms are stretched out to his side as he plummets into the soft hay.<p>

He removed himself from the hay and sprinted to the nearby alley, and slipped into the darkness. Darkness shrouded the assassin as he waits for his target to approach the end of the alley. Connor waited patiently. He was careful not to make a sound. Soon enough he can hear the distant laughter of men fast approaching the alley.

Connor took a deep breath and removed his tomahawk from his belt. He gripped its hilt and exhaled silently. His targets have come, and thus, Connor took his place in the middle of the road to do his work.

**xXxXxXxXx**

Laughter was heard in the dark street of Boston. It was rather loud that Richard feared that they might wake up the sleeping citizens at this time of the hour. It was dark. Only their lanterns serve as their only source of light. The moon and stars weren't shining in the sky for clouds have covered their light. It was a cold night, probably because winter is getting nearer.

"Haha… I'm going to miss that man. Johnson is really a good man. Drinking at the tavern won't be the same without him" one of Richard's fellow Templar, John said with a smile plastered on his face. Allen gave a faint smile when most of his companions agreed to John. True enough, Johnson is a good man, he is filled with pride and integrity, not to mention, loyal to the Order. He was the one who always tell him about the beliefs and traditions of the Natives when they were little. Allen was interested in their traditions.

"I know, but that assassin must've been really skilled to kill someone as clever as Johnson" Nicolas, another companion remarked.

"You are probably right. I won't be that uneasy about the assassin if he managed to kill Hickey instead of Johnson. That man is stupider than a dog" another one snorted and they laughed.

"Hey, Hickey isn't really stupid. In fact, he is actually tricky in his own way" Richard defended, but a smile was evident on his face.

"You are just defending the man because he helped you in courting one fine lady." one of them bashed and Richard cannot suppress a big smile. True enough, he always thought that Hickey was probably not a good person to ask for help in those kinds of things. Probably because of how Richard saw how he treats women in the tavern. But alas, he was wrong, he do know how to get a woman's attention. And without him, he wouldn't be even engaged at this moment.

"Speaking of that lady, our lover boy over here is going to get married! Of all the moments you can find, you still chose the time where we are in a crisis! Talk about an assassin who have just murdered Johnson and is threatening all of us right now"

"Well, I know that. But, both of us have already decided, we can no longer change that"

"Does ol' Charlie approve of that?" Richard chewed his lip. He knew that Charles Lee isn't really fond of him. Especially now that he and his bride has decided to get married during the times of war. And now, that an assassin's presence was discovered, Charles can't find a good reason why Richard should get married in times like this. But then, he wasn't able to do something about it.

"He was hesitant at first, but gave in when he can't do anything about it. And the fact that Master Kenway can't see something wrong with it, father can't do anything else but to agree with the Master" Richard said, smiling at the thought.

"Same old Charlie"

"You can say that. He's been a loyal follower of the Grand Master" a companion retorted

"Say, what exactly is your bride doing? I haven't seen her for weeks"

"She's staying in Philadelphia. Master Kenway has given her a task to do there, something about taking out a traitor in the Order. She's probably going to be here by tomorrow along with Thomas" Richard said, looking down at his lantern. Upon remembering his bride, it was weeks since the last time he saw her. She settled in Philadelphia for months, handling the Templar activity in that area. They just often wrote to each other.

"Master Kenway will probably make her do something again. You know, since she is his favorite student" John retorted and Richard gave a chuckle. Rillianne actually is the master's favorite, intelligent, quick, an excellent fighter and she never failed the master. Richard, on the other hand, isn't really born to be an excellent fighter.

"What can I say, your bride really is capable in doing many things" The other Templar said and they all went on their trip back to the tavern. Their lantern illuminated the pavement as they walk through the dark alley.

At the end of the alley, a dark figure stood as if it was waiting for them. The Templars stopped, scrutinizing the figure.

"Who are you?" One of the Templars yelled out to the dark figure, the dark figure then lunged at them. His cowl covered his face and gripped tomahawks on his hand. The Templars took out their swords and pushed Richard back,

"RICHARD! GET AWAY FROM HERE!"

**xXxXxXxXx**

Connor took his tomahawk and hacked the first Templar's neck; blood covered the blade of his weapon and instantly took the Templar down. Another one charged at him, Connor easily blocked it with his hidden blade as he removed his tomahawk from the other man's body. The assassin elbowed the man and plunged his blade through the man's chest. Richard unsheathed his sword, but John pushed him aside.

"Richard! Leave now!" he yelled as he shielded himself with his sword.

"But-"

"Go now!" John received an angry slash on his chest as he toppled down on the pavement.

"Richard, watch out!" another called out to him, but then a sword was plunged through his throat. The Templar died right in front of Richard. Connor removed the sword from the body and pointed it at Richard.

"Are you the assassin?!" Richard screamed his sword in his hands.

"Yes, and I am here to put an end to you" Richard took his sword and clashed with Connor's. Richard broke the clash first, taking a few steps backwards. Without another word, Connor lunged at Richard hastily. The young Templar wasn't able to guard himself, causing him to take blow on his chest. Richard plopped down on the cold floor. Pain jolted within him, but he can't give up. Someone is waiting for him.

"It is done..." Connor whispered to himself as he began to walk away.

"No, not yet…" Connor heard someone say behind him. Connor turned his head and saw Richard making an effort to stand up. His clothes were soaked with blood, and he can barely stand on his feet. With his remaining strength, Richard tried to swing his sword at Connor. Connor dodged the blade and landed another slash on the man.

Once again, the Templar's bloodied body fell to the ground, and Connor turned to walk away.

"NO!" he heard the man scream in agony. Connor's eyes widened as he watched him trying to stand up, but using his sword as his support. Richard's face was covered in blood and tears, and Connor watched him apathetically. He violently swung his sword around, hoping to inflict a wound on Connor.

In retaliation, Connor swung his sword at the Templar, giving him another slash on his body.

"That is enough" Connor tried to leave, he stopped when he felt someone tugged at his feet. He looked down in surprise to see Richard glaring at him. The young Templar's face was wounded, and there was anger in his eyes. Connor felt like a dagger was thrust in his heart.

"Spare me… I must not die…. She's waiting for me… I can't die yet! I WILL NOT DIE BECAUSE OF YOU!" he screamed, agony can be traced in his pained expression. Connor looked down, the expression of his face did not show any form of sympathy, but another part of him was dying of guilt for what he has done.

"I cannot spare you for the sake of your loved one… For peace, your life must be taken. I cannot grant you what you wish for, even though a part of me desperately tries to save you at whatever cost… Forgive me, and may your soul rest in peace" Connor finally said, raising his sword over the man. Richard's angry expression went down. Pain and sorrow was etched on his face as he anticipated the cold steel of the blade penetrate him. All his life he fought a battle for his beliefs in the Templar Order, he was blinded by it, to the point he forgot how to value the lives of other people and almost cost him his place in the Order. But then, she came. His bride was his light; she was the one who saved him from the darkness he has been living in. She gave him another chance to change and become a better person. That's the person he was today. He was respected, trusted and was a valued member of their Order. She was the beginning of everything good that has happened to him, and he was ready to share what's his with hers. And now, his life would be thrown away because of maintaining peace, all because of the Assassins' idiotic doctrine.

And then, Connor plunged his sword through his neck, ending the Templar's life. As Richard's life ebbed away, his once tight grip on the Assassin's feet loosened, yet Connor can feel the cold skin of his body. With one deep sigh, Connor turned his back and ran away. The bodies will most likely be discovered in the morning, but Connor cannot risk staying there. There will always be a possibility that a bystander, or worse, a Redcoat might have witnessed him standing over the cold bodies lying on the pavement. Connor leaped from a crate up to the ledge of a building and started to climb his way to the rooftops. He lifted himself from the ledge and started to free run through the roofs of the buildings.

Was he doing the right thing? How can he feel regret and remorse at this moment? Connor doesn't usually feel this way. Perhaps it's only a matter of time before he can actually forget about that fateful night, just like his other assassination targets. After reassuring himself, a small bit of doubt was buried deep within his mind. Why does he feel that the death of this Templar would affect him in some ways? If so, what would that be?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: It All Began Under The Rain**

It began as a whispering in the air. The morning had been peaceful and the thick grey clouds drifted beneath the gleaming disc of sun. Connor Kenway stood in the middle of the busy street of Boston. A cold breeze of wind rushed to him, and Connor stared at the sky blankly. A small drop of rain fell on his cheek, so fine and light, Connor didn't even bother wiping it away. The smell of wet pavement infiltrated his senses and then the rain came. He can hear himself whispering. But he whispers to no one, he is alone, despite the numerous civilians passing by. Deep inside him, he is horrified at the thought of him being alone, but here he is, standing in the gloom of rain pouring down softly into the pavement.

In days when the sky shed tears into the earth are the days in which Connor can feel loneliness swathe around him. The faint sound of rain ringing through his ears reminded him of the times he felt alone. Rain fell from the skies on the day he lost his mother in the fire. As a child before, he detested the rain for it fell moments after the fire ran out. It's as if the sky mourned with a mere child who lost his mother. As time goes by, rain reminded Connor of the sorrow that seemed to be like a blanket that covered each, and every glint of happiness left in him as a child. People around him helped him move on and live the life he chose to live.

Then the image of the young man last night flashed in his mind. Those eyes, eyes that begged for mercy, but the hate in his stare pierced him like a knife. Connor killed many men already. He felt a bit of regret and clemency to those he killed, but none of them bothered him as much as the death of that man. Connor shut his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. Then he heard the people scurry to another part of the street, a few blocks away from where Connor stood.

"So they found them..." Connor whispered to himself as he walks his way to where the people gathered around. As he got near, he can spot Redcoats taking the bodies of the men Connor murdered the night before. Connor stood there and watched silently. His eyes remained on the body of the man that left him a heavy weight of guilt on his back. The memory of his death was still fresh in the young assassin's mind. Connor was lost in his thoughts; he can barely even notice the number of people pushing him away so that they can proceed to wherever they are going. He wasn't even minding the judging glances of the men surrounding him because of him getting soaked under the pouring rain.

Connor averted his eyes to his left; he was able to see a woman rushing through the crowd. She looks like noblewoman, judging from her attire. His eyes followed the woman as she approached the body of the Templar. The woman buried her face in her palms as she knelt down, screaming the man's name and left her umbrella falling to cold pavement. Seeing her made Connor feel a lot worse, seeing others suffer because he just did what he thought was the best for everyone was bad enough. He felt his heart drop when saw the woman gripped the man's cold hand as if she won't let him go when the Redcoats picked the body up. Such bond, is that how it really was? They have this sense of closeness that Connor cannot help but feel envious about. And then he realized he was alone. In his death, would someone mourn him the way this woman mourned the Templar? Probably the people in the Homestead would. They were his family after all, but then, something might be missing. Maybe, just maybe, he was looking for his true family, his family that runs with the same blood as his. He began to believe before that bloodlines aren't really important for you to have a family. And now, he just felt that it must've felt different from the family he have right now. But he doesn't get his hopes up when the thought of his father went into his mind.

The young assassin turned away, he can no longer bear to see what else would happen. He knew from the start, even before his initiation into a fully pledged assassin that every like that he will take with cause great grief to that person's loved ones. He knew that, but he never thought that it would be this difficult.

"Connor" a man's voice called behind him when Connor started to walk away. The young assassin turned his head to where the voice came from. It was his fellow assassin, Clipper Wilkinson.

"Clipper"

"Have you heard that another Templar returned to Boston?"

"No, do you mind giving me the details?"

"We are not sure what the Templar's name is, but Deborah told me that she heard from a courier that the Templar is the Grand Master's student. It might only mean that this Templar might be threat to us, much more skilled than the others."

"We will know more about that soon. But right now, we must not let our guards down and focus on the missions at hand" Connor's eyes returned to the bodies and Clipper quickly understood. Clipper knew exactly what was troubling his friend. He can see guilt burning in his eyes.

"It hurts, I know. I also felt that way when I had my first kill. I regretted the part where I even dared to visit the man's grave and saw his family weeping. It isn't a nice sight. Leaving this would probably lift your spirits a bit" he said as he reached out a red flower to Connor. Connor reluctantly took it from his friend's hand.

"I appreciate that you are trying to help me out, but I really don't mind. I'm fine" Connor said stubbornly and Clipper rolled his eyes at his friend. He may know Connor for a short time, but he knew all too well that Connor isn't that expressive with his feelings. His facial expressions are like a stone carving in which his face doesn't express a different expression aside from his permanent frown.

Clipper was sure enough that Connor was hiding whatever he felt at this moment, and he decided to leave Connor alone for now.

"Well, it's still your decision. I got to go, I still have errands to run" Clipper excused as he sprinted away from Connor. The young assassin felt the cold wind rush to his soaked robes, he stared at the people who are already dispersing from the commotion earlier. It's as if, nothing even happened. Was this the effects of the war? That the people are used in seeing dead bodies and other people grieve at their loved ones that they didn't even care much anymore. As soon as the crowd left, Connor walked to the place where the bodies once lay. Dried blood was still imprinted on the stone floorings. Connor gently put down the rose in his hand to floor.

"Why leave a flower on a street stained with the blood of those men?" a woman's voice rang through Connor's ears. He quickly turned around and saw the woman who was weeping to one of the bodies. The shade of her umbrella covered her face. It was emotionless, but Connor was sure she was trembling as tears flowed through her face earlier. Seeing her now seemed like she didn't even shed a tear earlier.

"It's to honour those who have recently departed from this world…" Connor spoke softly.

"It's raining. Why do you stay under the rain?" her voice was soft and soothing

"There's no point in hiding myself under a roof because of water falling from the sky. It won't kill me or anything" Connor smiled faintly, but his smile faded when he felt a shade cover him. He stopped and looked down on the woman who raised her umbrella over him.

"You might catch a cold" she said flatly, no trace of worry can be sensed through the tone of her voice. Connor felt his heart skip a beat. It was rare for a random stranger to show him one act of kindness without him needing any help at all. It felt heart-warming and Connor cannot suppress a faint smile and a surprised look on his face. He scrutinized her a bit. Her face may be emotionless, but he saw sincerity in her green eyes.

"You really don't have to do that..." Connor muttered, trying to look away and the woman smiled faintly. However, Connor can't help by marvel at her bright green eyes, so mysterious, yet, so beautiful. Her eyes compliments her pale skin and chocolate brown hair, she was beautiful.

"Helping someone won't kill me or anything"

"Well, if you helped a wrong person and you fell into a trap, it could kill you"

"Will you do that?" she pushed and Connor grinned. Clever, Connor wasn't expecting such response.

"Of course not" he stared somewhere at the distance, "Don't you have anything better to do rather than talk to a stranger like me?"

"Nothing really, but you won't be a stranger if you would give me the pleasure of giving me your name"

"Connor" he said casually, trying hard not to mention his last name. Connor never really used his father's last name. He was only using "Kenway" when it's really necessary. But then, he can't help but feel a bit proud whenever he uses his father's surname. It's as if he was someone as strong and proud like his father, someone who can be looked up to. He hated to admit it, but he, in a way, admires his father's noble traits when he hears his mother's stories about him or whenever he hears Redcoats speak highly of him.

"You don't have a surname?" she asked

"Well, let's keep that a secret first. What would be your name?"

"Rillianne" she replied, "As for my surname, it's better if it's a secret"

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's not fair for me to say my surname if you cannot give yours"

Connor smiled and noticed that the rain stopped. Both of them stared into the sky, and watched as the grey clouds slowly drift away from each other and sunlight began edging over the buildings of the town.

"I have to go, and you can keep your umbrella for now"

"Hmm... I guess this is goodbye?" she reached out her hand and Connor shook it lightly. Her hands are soft; she probably didn't go through any rigorous work of some sort, as expected from a noblewoman like her.

"I'll see you around, perhaps?" Rillianne called out as she turned her back on Connor.

"We'll see" the young assassin replied as he watched her walk away before heading back to wherever he's going. Connor let out a smile. He cannot guarantee seeing that young woman ever again. But Connor felt that deep inside him, he wanted to find a way in order to meet her again.

**xXxXxXxXx**

Rillianne approached a dark alley and halted halfway through it. Her umbrella was still shading her. She knew that someone was right behind her, but she let her guard down for she knows that that person won't do her any harm.

"What do you plan on doing, daughter? Now that you met the assassin Master Kenway mentioned before" Charles Lee stated as he waited for his daughter's response. She turned her head to see her father leaning towards a brick wall. He was in his usual fashion; his usual robes, his trademark facial hair and the scent of a canine was wafting through the air.

"I still don't know. What I'm sure is that I will avenge Richard. But, isn't he the same man you told me about before? The one who murdered Johnson?" she said, her eyes darting towards her father who let out a humourless chuckle.

"Yes, it was really unexpected that he attacked your fiancée the night before your arrival, and your wedding. Assassins, they really know when to strike. I wonder how you are coping up"

Rillianne went silent. How exactly was she coping up with this? The mere thought of it was too painful for her.

"I must not give in to emotions. It will not help me achieve my goals if I succumbed to it"

"I see... You intend to kill the assassin? That would be difficult, even for you. He proved himself to be quite a pain in the arse. Perhaps you need me to lend you a hand, hm?" Charles said mockingly

"You have nothing to do with this" Rilliane seethed and hastily closed her parasol but Charles seemed to be unmoved. Rillianne almost unsheathed the blade hidden in her parasol and lunge at her father.

"I have something to do with this. The man is an Assassin after all." Charles countered sternly, walking towards Rillianne who suddenly became wary.

"Assassin or not, I will be the one to take his life. And you will not do anything about it" the young woman said bitterly, raising her defences.

"I know he is probably by far the most important person in your life. I know too well that you don't even mind if my head will get chopped off by the assassin, but you know you cannot do this alone."

"I'm glad that you are aware about me not even caring about your death, though you are right that I cannot face him alone. He must not be underestimated."

"First, do you now know his identity?" Charles inquired and Rillianne nodded

"His name is Connor, but he did not provide any surname. He seems hesitant about using it"

"Curious. And did you provide your name?"

"Yes, but I did not state my surname either"

"Good. Now, how do you plan to end the assassin?"

"I will find a way. And I will avenge him. I will kill him, at any cost"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The Mission**

_Today I met him, the man who took my lover's life. My heart was filled with sorrow and grief as I saw his cold body lying on the wet pavement. The sky was at the brink of tears, as if it was trying to shed tears with me. I can't help but feel both anger and sorrow at the same time. Seeing the Redcoats take him away seemed like they made a serious crime in my eyes, the only thing I could ever do was to at least hold his cold hand one last time. And I did. Moments passed and the crowd started to disappear one by one as if nothing happened. My desiring to kill my Richard's murderer is starting to cloud my thoughts the minute I saw a hooded man laying a flower on the blood stained pavement. I was fortunate that I was able to restrain myself. When I talked to him, he was too different from the man I always thought him to be. I can't even help but doubt myself if he really was the assassin. I will only get to know him better once I get to be beside him, if the Master permits. That might be the time I give justice to my love._

Rillianne put down her quill and stared out through her window. The sky looked like a thick blanket of navy blue with the stars shining like jewel hanging in the sky. Rillianne took pleasure in watching the night sky but the sounds coming from outside is keeping her from enjoying the luxury of doing so. Even though she's in a closed room, she could still hear the usual sounds of singing men downstairs. Rillianne sighed as she rubbed her temples. As much as she detests the merry-making in the tavern, she can't do anything to stop it and give her a little silence in her room. She stood up from her chair and walked to the door. The moment the door opened, the loud noise rang to her ears, much to Rillianne's chagrin. The first person she saw was the man she does not want to see of all people.

"Oy! Charlie's little princess is here!" Thomas Hickey called out as he gulped down his mug of rum. The other Templars turned their attention to Rillianne who took her seat on the stool.

"Call me that one more time and I will force my blade through your throat" Rillianne seethed but Hickey disregarded her. In fact, he even grinned in amusement. Rillianne was used to be called names by the drunken bastard known as Thomas Hickey. Calling her a princess actually came from her appearance. Curly brown locks, petit figure, her face, and the way she acts was probably all the aspects of being a fine lady. She looks like a fragile doll that once she stumbled to the ground, she will break. Even though most of the Templars she acquainted with knows that she was far from being fragile, they still think lowly of her because she's a woman.

"Isn't that a bit harsh, Rilliane?" John Pitcairn chuckled as he took a gulp from his own mug. Rillianne rolled her eyes at the Templar.

"Whatever ya say, love. Say, ya got a lot more beautiful than tha last time I saw ya. Now I'm starting to think if ya really came from old Charlie's seed" Charles Lee gave Hickey a warning stare, and once again, Hickey didn't mind him. Biddle shifted on his seat uncomfortably when Charles eyed him when a smile tugged on his face. Pitcairn simply stifled a laugh and looked away when Charles looked back at him.

"One more word or I'm seriously going to murder you and feed you to my father's dogs"

"Now, now dear Rillianne. My pets do not eat junk foods" Charles said as Hickey snorted when he figured out that he was just insulted that he was not even worthy to be eaten by dogs. Rillianne smiled faintly. She always found it amusing whenever Hickey took a good old insult from any of them. The waitress put down a mug of rum in front of Rillianne.

"You do know that I do not drink such filth encased in a mug" Rillianne reminded her father while staring at him in disbelief.

"I already paid for that. You might as well give it to Hickey if you don't want it" Without further ado she pushed the mug to Hickey who gladly took it in his hand.

"Thanks, mate"

"It's been my pleasure" Rillianne replied impassively. It wasn't long until Rillianne listened to the usual bickering of her father and the other Templars. She must admit, she missed the warm laughs of William Johnson as he watches the others. Johnson was a good man. Heck, she probably even liked him more than her father. When the thought of Johnson ran through her mind, the name Connor clouded her thoughts once more. She balled her fists beneath the table so that the others wouldn't notice her. The bickering died out when a dark shadow walked beside Rillianne. She was too busy reminiscing about the assassin she barely even noticed the Grand Master appear.

"Apologies for keeping you waiting" his sharp British accent rang through Rillianne's ears. She looked up and saw no other than the Grand Master, Haytham Kenway. He looked just about the same before she left to Philadelphia months ago. The only difference is that his hair was gray and his face seemed to age a bit. Other than that, he looks just the same.

"It's no problem, Master Kenway" Charles quickly replied

"_Same old Charles"_ Rillianne thought as she watched her father babble different things to the Master. Everyone was aware of Charles being the most active member ever since the Master took his first step in American soil and he was somewhat very dedicated to his work and respects Haytham more than anything else.

"It's been a while, Miss Lee. I believe you have done your task?" Haytham nodded at Rillianne. The young woman fished out a silver ring that was hidden in her pocket. She pushed the ring as it rolled to the other side of the table. Haytham took the ring and inspected it.

"Well done. I am glad that you were able to apply my teachings. Truly, any mentor would have been proud to see what his student has become after all these years"

"I'm pleased to hear that"

"Now, as to why I wanted to bring you back here..." Haytham started as he took his seat on the chair and all the Templars are all ears to the Grand Master.

"You are aware of Johnson's death, I am sure of it" Rillianne nodded and Haytham continued,

"And how can we all forget the untimely death of our six brothers, including your fiancée" The words stung Rillianne. She looked down on her feet and numerous images of her brother flashed in her head. Thomas observed the young Templar become tense on her seat. None of them dared to speak of it when she's there, probably because she is too sensitive about the topic. Only Charles and the Master are too bold to speak of it when she's present.

"Yes, and all of these deaths are caused by only one man..." she said, her voice was cracked and can be barely heard. Rillianne wanted to look as if she was being given another mission, trying hard to keep her emotion intact. Haytham looked straight at his student and can tell she's not letting her feelings surface.

"I am sorry for your loss. But we surely cannot let our other brothers to die in the hands of the same man. I brought you here to do a mission. You will be the one in charge of overlooking the plans we set. I will give you the responsibility to keep the assassin from daunting our plans once again. We cannot fail like what happened to Johnson"

"How will she do that?" Charles intervened before Rillianne could actually ask the same question.

"It's simple really, just see to it that there will be no traces of the assassin must be seen when the plans are commenced. Until then, wait for further orders"

Hearing her mission made her heart drop. It was too far from what she wanted it to be. She was expecting her mission will allow her to get closer to the assassin, the sooner she can kill him. She wanted to stand up and protest, but from the tone of the Master, she cannot try and reason with him any further whenever his tone becomes authoritative.

"So, what do you really plan to do, Master Kenway?" Charles inquired, and Haytham thought for a while.

"We will just wait. If time will grant us an opportunity to make a change, so be it. I suppose that will be all for now. May the Father of Understanding guide us" Haytham dismissed the Templars. All of them left their seats, leaving Charles, Rillianne and Haytham alone.

"Now, Rillianne, are you quite sure you want to stay in this tavern? You can always stay in my home anytime" Charles asked, as if he was forcing her to change her mind.

"I have decided, father. Since when did you even care as to where I will stay?" she blurted out and Charles gave a heavy sigh. Rillianne did not want to believe but she just saw hurt in her father's eyes, but it quickly disappeared as returned to his serious composure.

"I'll just see you tomorrow then. Goodnight" Charles took his coat and left to the stairs. Rillianne's gaze was glued to her father's back.

"You shouldn't have been so hard on him" Rillianne turned and saw Haytham with an amused smile on his face.

"I'm not really sure if you are being serious with that smile on your face. You rarely smile" Rillianne said as she sat down on the stool once more.

"Hmm... I'm kind of aware of that. You know, your father's a good man"

"Yeah, right" Rillianne recalled when Allen and she were children. They grew up without a mother, she died in childbirth and their father was forced to bring them both under his wings. They grew up in his house, under their nanny's care that is. They barely talk to their father, and if they are lucky, they might be able to speak with him for probably another five minutes before he leaves again. Rillianne used to believe that their father might be sad because of their mother's departure and he just needs time to let the wounds heal. But as time goes by, her conviction was starting to crumble. In some nights, she can hear different women enter their home at night with their father. She then started to realize that he was over her mother; he was off sleeping with another set of women. Who knows? She might even gain half siblings if fate has it going. At times, she can smell the odor of alcohol whenever he goes home, he barely even notice them and then head out to his room. She grew up without receiving much love from her father, but at least she saw someone as a fatherly figure, and that is her mentor, Haytham Kenway.

Haytham patted her shoulder, and Rillianne looked down on the floor.

"The mission I gave you earlier is a fraud. Nothing but a good old cover up for your real mission" Haytham stated and Rillianne eyed the Grand Master suspiciously.

"What do you mean a fraud?"

"Charles would react violently if I told your true purpose here boldly in front of the other Templars. So, I decided to give it to you in discreetly." Whenever the Master would give her this sort of missions that the other Templars are not aware of, there are only two possible reasons she can think of. One is that it's a matter in which other Templars might greatly disagree with and the Master has reasons why it must be done and two, is that the mission lingers around the Master's personal issues he needs to resolve, and Rillianne is not allowed to question about the task given to her.

"What is this mission that would bring you into such secrecy?" Rillianne stared at Haytham. The Grand Master only stared at the ceiling, seeing the Master in this perspective made Rillianne see a similarity between Connor and Haytham's appearance. Rillianne decided to leave that thought in her head; she must've imagining things again.

"I want you to look over the actions of the assassin" Rillianne cannot believe what she heard. It was just exactly as she wanted things to be.

"Do you mean that I should spy on him?"

"Yes, I do not know what means you will use to deal with it. But I want you to gather information about him. Find out his parentage, background, anything that we can use to bring the assassin down"

"But why do you choose me?" Rillianne was aware of the reason why. But she just wants to hear it from the Master himself.

"Of all or us here, you are the one who is pained the most. Seeing him suffer would be more than pleasing sight to you. After all, justice can be served once you succeed and taking his life would be for the greater good of everyone else"

"When will I begin?"

"Whenever you are ready"


End file.
